


glass

by bluesunberries



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Character Death, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Time Skip, RIP Iwaizumi, i'm sorry this is so angsty but i couldn't help myself, oikawa is paralyzed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesunberries/pseuds/bluesunberries
Summary: "Shit-"The car swerves on the slick black ice, the brakes squealing in protest to the sudden force. The rush of glass came in the matter of seconds, yet most of them neglected to hit Oikawa. Then the rolling began, and the darkness slowly overtook his vision...----Oikawa blinks, looking up to find a blurry Iwaizumi resting on his chest, protecting him from the shrapnel of the metal cage they seemed to be encased in. He struggles to rid his eyes of the cloudy sheen blocking his vision, but he could clearly see the color of red, and it was everywhere.***A short story of the day that Oikawa loses everything he ever loved, including his partner.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 30





	glass

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first fic so i'm super nervous >.< but I hope you enjoy this short story/oneshot/whatever this is! i'm sorry this is so angsty but i couldn't get this idea out of my mind...

Oikawa Tooru is not a genius.

The thought of being one pounds in his head over and over, forcing itself to the surface. No matter how hard he wishes for it, no matter how hard he works and tries and believes, he will never be a genius.

Over the years, he’s come to accept his fate and eternal damnation to this title. He’s come up with countless reasons why he could never become one. Those hours wasted all led to the same conclusions, the same explanations that curse his mind to stick to the same endless mind loops that only serve to screw with him.

But every loop, every session, every thought always ends with one ultimate reason why he could never earn that status: Geniuses never lose.

No moment reminded Oikawa more of his position in this world than where he was right now. Confined to a chair, staring out a window that separated him from the world and his room, fingers sprawled on the cold glass. He wished that a miracle would happen, would save him from this spiral of harmful advances of his own thoughts.

Outside, the snow fluttered to the ground with earnest, and the stars twinkled with anticipation to illuminate the world below. Oh, how he longed to return to the outside, to walk in the icy powder and bask in the hope of the solar system. He wanted to feel the embrace of the world, of his world, warming him when he asks.

Yet every daydream crumbles when he blinks, seeing the reflection of his pathetic self and the beginnings of his journey where he wastes away in a chair that can only provide him so much mobility on his own. A lifetime’s efforts gone, snatched away in a matter of seconds. 

It seems so oddly sad, depressing even, that dreams can end in the matter of a simple snap of a cord. 

Sighing, Oikawa grabs the wheels and maneuvers himself back to his bed, a simple cot fitted with a sheet and a light blanket on top. Balancing his body on his arms, he pulls himself onto the bed, finishing the routine with him grabbing each leg and swinging in so they’re lying comfortably. Resting his head on the pillow, he closes his eyes, waiting for the alluring promise of sleep to overtake him.

But this night provides no more relief than the others as the insomnia settles, and in a matter of minutes his head is again buzzing with the negative thoughts he was trying to push away only moments before. Turning his head to the side, he stares at the empty space beside him, void of the comfort that he used to feel when he would have trouble sleeping.

Somebody was missing.

Oikawa knew exactly who it was.

Laboring his muscles to reverse the process of the previous activity, he rolled his way to the hallways, and checked for the clear. Hurrying, he crossed the empty floors, towards the room across from his.

Here, the walls echoed the small beeps and whirring sounds of machines. The cleanly common hospital smell was overwhelming, and the space seemed crowded around the small bed holding the even smaller person.

Moving himself closer, Oikawa reached for the hand resting at the man’s side, and held it up to his cheek, molding it to cup the shape of his jawline. He kissed the man’s wrist, where a large collection of veins could be seen against his cold, pale, sickly skin. The hand was so cold and limp, but it was his hand, the one that held him when he needed and caressed him when he struggled. Yet that comfort never erased the echoing thoughts at the back of his head that screamed that it still didn't feel the same. 

Quietly, whispering enough to barely be heard over the noises of the devices that were actively saving the man’s life, he said, “I love you, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi never answered, only let his chest rise and fall with each artificial inhale and exhale of the breathing machine. He looked so vulnerable, so weak this way, and Oikawa hated every second of every minute that he stood in his presence.

He promised him for years that they would grow old together, that their friendship and love would continue until the day that they would die. He promised, yet here his lover lay here all too soon, motionless and dependent. Paused, stationary between the states of death and life, constantly dragged by each side with a slightly unequal balance leaning towards the more damning prospect. Every beep, every inhale, every exhale, every drip, only reminded Oikawa of every promise, every wish, every hope, every dream they ever had together.

“Please, Hajime. I will do anything you want, just wake up, please,” Oikawa pleaded, tears slowly pooling in his eyes. “I can’t live without you.”

Despite his empty words, the beats of Iwaizumi’s heart slowed, down, down, down, till it came to a gradual stop when the sun began to peek through the edge of the horizon, leaving Oikawa to drown in his worthlessness.

* * *

The tree that Oikawa stopped at had grown ancient, developing knots in the trunk. At the roots lay a stone, marked with the name of somebody long deceased, but never forgotten.

Sitting before the marker in his chair, he looked lovingly at the name. It was moments before he spoke.

“You always told me that I never needed you. But-” he choked on his words before taking a shaky breath.

“Look at me now. I need you more than ever.” He managed, breaking down into his hands.

“I need you Hajime. Please, just come back to me.”

Cries resonated through the scenery, and as the sun disappeared and the stars began to twinkle again, he sat, reminiscing in all the ways he has failed to become the man he hoped to be. 

No, Oikawa Tooru was not a genius.

Geniuses never lose, and he lost everything, his mobility, his love, his reason to live. The tree was a witness to his ever present battle, to his fight, and to the end of it when he finally joined his love that day of his own accord.

He had lost everything, and when his final breath danced across his lips, he knew, just knew, now he was going to be granted his final wish.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry if the pace seems a bit off, i'm not very good at that... i'm kind of glad that i wrote this but i did shed a few tears in the process :(


End file.
